"If ever a time should come, when vain and aspiring men shall possess
the highest seats in Government, our country will stand in need of its
experienced patriots to prevent its ruin."Samuel Adams

The coming war will be for the heart and soul of America. It will be fought here at home with our enemies pouring over, under and around our walls.

All I can say to Grifter is this; you are now needed here at home, more than ever.

For those who dare to criticize those who have served, to those who would spit on any veteran from any war or conflict, or wag your fat, soft finger finger in their faces, stained by the sweat of combat, the blood of sacrifice, having watched their friends give their all in far off lands, while you, progressive trash, sleep safely in your warm, cozy bed, with your cell phone and twitter dancing you to sleep, as you worry about your next selfie that you will take at Starbucks as you rush off off to buy that new tablet or phone that will rob you of just a a tiny bit more of your ability to think and act for yourself, do not EVER forget who fought for and protected your soft, fat multicolored ass and your selfish way of life.

The gates of hell have been opened by this regime that has turned the White House into the Black House (Thank you, Leo for that one), as the words of Martin Luther King are mocked and choked off by the foul tide of political correctness, excessive diversity and excessive multiculturalism.

The wages of diplomacy and peace are just another form of tyranny and slavery.

Convert, submit or die does not just apply to Islam and those smelly bearded jihadis. CSD is also about DOMESTIC conversion, submission or death. Think about the implications of this and what most likely now lies ahead of us. It will not be easy nor is there voting our way out of this The gates of Mordor have swung wide open and these gates do lie on just the banks of the Potomac.

The comments at the source tell us all we need to know. Read through them. I leave you with this one and thanks for reading PatriotUSA:

"Be ready to fight again. Call out the appeasers and cowards who
talk a big game but hide behind "strongly worded letters" as the height
of bravery. Laugh at interventionists who want "something done" in all
things but have no clue about Objective or End State. Be ready to train
your sons and daughters to fight the 9th Crusade. Be ready to defend
America against those who offer only three options: convert, submit, or
die.

The Global War on Terror is only "over" in the minds of politicians
who have no concept of what "Terror" really is and why it hates. This
is only the barest of pauses. It is hesitates only because our strategy
will not realize the required end state. This war is against an enemy
who will only be stopped when we essentially give them their own options
back to them."

“I want to be dead with my friends….where the iron sharpens the iron.”-Every Time I Die

I
am bearing witness to the end of an era. I have the distinct blessing,
or the agonizing misfortune of having front-row seats to the death
throes of a creature that has defined a generation. This creature is
what my buddies and I refer to as the Global War On Terror
(GWOT for short). 13 years, thousands of lives, trillions of dollars,
and two presidents later, those of us who contributed our very being to
this endeavor are left thinking, “What now?”

On May 23, 2013,
POTUS Obama declared the GWOT “over.” Just like that. Done. Finished. It
felt to my brothers and I, that our purpose in life had just
disappeared.

Of course, we knew that there are still things going
on in the shadows of foreign policy. Smelly, bearded extremists are
still getting shot in the face in far-off lands. But, to the majority of
us who had spent our entire adult lives finding, fixing, and finishing,
our jobs were apparently over. We had sacrificed marriages, seeing our
kids grow up, watching our parents grow old, witnessed our brothers
deaths, and lost limbs for a conflict that we didn’t start, but were
damn sure going to finish. We had been involved so long that it became
us. Sure, some of us got out and made strides in veteran’s advocacy,
tactical efficiency and efficacy, community growth, technological
advancements, and improving quality of life for the layperson at home
(i.e. the Perfect Push-Up). This writing is not for them. This is
talking about the guy that has cut his teeth and dodged bullets since he
was 18 years old and now has to try to find a place in this world….a
world without the GWOT.

A friend of mine once said, “PTSD is the
realization that you will never be this cool again.” He was referring to
being on deployment, toting guns, and generally being a hard-ass. He
was kind of correct. Once you wash the dirt and grit off and put on a
clean shirt, you’re out of place in the civilian world. No one gets your
jokes. Everyone wonders why you’re so insensitive to the plights of
celebrities and pro-ball players. People view you as a victim, someone
that somehow got duped into joining the military and marching off to
fight, only to come home with less friends and more nightmares. You go
to work at your job thinking that whatever you do today will never
matter as much as what you did over there. You will never work as hard
in this cubicle, office, ambulance, bank, or courthouse, as you did in
the killing fields. You have this little voice in the back of your head
whispering, “You will never feel more alive. It doesn’t get any better
than those days.” Sadly enough, a lot of veterans are heeding this voice
and going home and killing themselves, either with a gun or with heroin
and Hennessy. The suicide rate is an epidemic and the VA is a joke.
Personally, in my non-solicited and ultimately meaningless opinion, I
think this is largely due to the fact that a guy went over and put in
work, to come home to a government that doesn’t support him, and a
public that doesn’t appreciate him. We live in a society that puts more
effort and emphasis on Justin-fucking-Bieber than their neighbor who
lost his legs in Ramadi. It doesn’t feel good when the media is more
ablaze in memoriam for a celebrity that OD’d on the shitter than Chris
Kyle or more recently, Aaron Torian. It stings a little when the
Commander in Chief makes more phone calls to his travel agent and
“brave” basketball players than to the widows of the fallen. Bottom
line: empty thanks and the obvious look of pity don’t do much for a guy
that feels lost at home without his brothers or people that REALLY care.
But, I digress.

The last troops in Iraq left with little fanfare.
Under the guidance of an apologetic administration, they left that
country with their ears back and their tails tucked. To the guys at home
at the time, they could no longer point at the TV and say, “I was
there.” Afghanistan seems to be heading the same direction. One big-ass
circle. The Taliban are seizing ground again, poised to take power, and
the troops (from MY vantage point) are just hanging out in the FOB’s
eating Burger King and biding their time, and why shouldn’t they? Our
strategy in this country has been telescoped so far that the enemy knows
when we’re going home! Why go out and put foot to ass when the
shot-clock is down to the final second? No one is truly invested in the
war. Again, my opinion. Hell, a staggering amount of troops here were
9-10 years old on 9/11/2001! It wasn’t even a “real” event to them, but
rather an occurrence, handed down to them by parents and teachers and
history books. They have no clue why they’re here. The commands don’t
seem to give a fuck about more than eye pro and glow belts. Karaoke
night is priority numero uno. The ROE’s have been so neutered that
they’ve become a detriment to the troops. Everyone is concerned about
packing their shit and shipping out.

But, there are those of us
that still feel we have more to contribute. There are those of us who
aren’t meant for a desk. There are men in this world still willing to go
out there, for whatever reason, and skull-fuck the enemies of the USA.
But, is there really a place for us any more?

Some of us went
back into the military, but are hitting the roadblocks associated with a
large military drawdown. Some of us tried serving our communities, I
myself became a paramedic, but grew bored rather quickly. Some of us
went the PMC route, which is perfect to an extent. I get to tote guns
and hang with the boys and count racks of cash. But, that world is dying
down as well. My question is: “where do we go when the world no longer
needs us?” What happens when the reason you got out of bed every morning
for 12-13 years, isn’t there anymore? Especially when you know that the
whole game was mishandled. It’s hard as fuck sitting back and watching
the talking heads talk about the “mistakes” and the “futility” and
asking “was it worth it?” when you have had to bury more friends than
most people know their entire lives. It’s very sobering to think to
yourself, “MY war is over.”

Maybe it’s the way it goes. Maybe,
those of us that still have more to give, are destined to sit on porch
in a rocking chair or a bar stool at the VFW and talk about the “good
ol’ days” with our buddies. My fear is maybe we’re going the way of Gran
Tourino. As much of a badass as Clint Eastwood’s character was in that
movie, he was still a sad, bitter, old man. Another movie reference is
the grocery store scene in “The Hurt Locker” (regardless of the movie,
that scene was powerful).

My
other fear is that the world will bury what we’ve done. The history
books will refer to our endeavors the way I learned about Vietnam. The
story I was told by my teachers was wildly different than the stories my
father shared. His wasn’t stories of mistakes, his was a story of
brotherhood and sacrifice. Thus is the divide in my generation. My
brothers and I tell stories with passion and pride, and my non-serving
peers think: what a waste of a life. It may have been a waste, time will
tell, but it was a glorious waste. I “wasted” my life seeing the very
best of a generation of MEN stand up and go do what was asked of them. I
“wasted” my life in third-world shit-holes, knowing my brothers cared
more about me than the girl at home. I “wasted” my life watching guys
risk and give their lives for one another. I would not ask to “waste” my
life any other way. I will also do it as long as I can. My only
question, echoed by thousands of GWOT vets is: “what now?”

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